Potions
by SnapeThatAShame
Summary: Hermione takes an ill-advised potion and a certain someone has to help her.
1. Chapter 1

**_A/N: This is my first ever attempt at a Harry Potter fanfic and it's been ages since I've written anything at all, so I'm afraid I may be a bit rusty. I'm terrible with long plot-based pieces, so it's just a little vignette. I have 2 subsequent parts to this story partially written, so if this goes over well, I'll work on adding them. Takes place in the summer of 2001._**

* * *

There was a knock on the door.

Severus Snape looked up from the book he was reading. Who could possibly be coming to harass him on a Friday evening?

He flung the door open and groaned. One of his least favorite people was standing on the doorstep along with two others he wasn't particularly fond of either.

"What do you want, Potter?" Snape asked, addressing the young man.

"Professor, it's Hermione, she's… she's not well." He gestured at the woman he was desperately trying to hold upright.

"I feel GREAT, Parry Hotter," Hermione breathed. "Hah. You're hotter. Parry Hotter." She nearly collapsed in a fit of giggles and buried her face in his neck. Harry looked distinctly uncomfortable. Ginny Weasley stood on Hermione's other side, dressed to the nines and looking quite put out as the other woman's hand roamed toward her boyfriend's belt.

"Aphrodisiac Potion, I presume? Where did she get it?" Snape sneered.

Ginny looked embarrassed. "I… I made it, sir. Ron's been distant lately and I thought it might help -"

Snape cut her off. "I see you retain the lack of finesse you showed in my class. You presumed you had the skill to create such a complicated potion? What on earth were you thinking?"

Ginny's eyes focused on the professor's feet. "I'm sorry. I thought - I didn't realize - can you help her?"

Snape sighed. As much as he didn't want to care what happened to Hermione Granger, his conscience wouldn't let her run wild in the streets drunk on a poorly made Aphrodisiac Potion. If anything happened to her, one of her irresponsible friends would surely tell the Daily Prophet that Severus Snape had refused to help. That would be a bit of press the Headmaster of Hogwarts surely didn't need. He stepped back into the foyer and gestured for Harry and Ginny to follow.

"Thanks for ruining my Friday night," Snape snapped as he headed down the hallway.

Harry snorted as he looked around the flat. "You were clearly having an exciting evening. Sorry to interrupt your hot date," he spat sarcastically.

Snape whirled around, positioning himself as close to Harry's face as possible. "Careful, Potter," he growled. "I have half a mind to take points from Gryffindor for that. I don't even care if you're not a student at Hogwarts anymore." Snape turned his back on Harry and continued walking, the tails of his frock coat swishing angrily after him.

"Don't provoke him, Harry. We need his help!" Ginny whispered, loudly enough for Snape to overhear as he led them to his living room.

"Put her there," Snape said, gesturing at the sofa, "I'll be right back." He stalked through the door to his lab and quickly pulled some ingredients off the shelves.

"Where is that idiot, Weasley?" Snape asked as he returned, less out of curiosity and more in an attempt to deride the youngsters further.

"I don't know," Ginny said glumly, "He was supposed to come with us tonight - we planned a double date - but he never showed."

Snape lit a fire beneath the cauldron and started measuring out ingredients. "I hear he's playing professional Quidditch these days. Figures he would pick a career where he doesn't have to use his brain."

"Hey!" Harry was indignant, "Quidditch requires loads of strategy!" Ginny shot her boyfriend a sharp look, worried by Harry's brazen attitude toward his former professor.

"Potter, just because you're not my student anymore doesn't mean I won't make things extremely unpleasant for you if you continue to cheek me," Snape drawled as he added a few more ingredients to his cauldron. "If you would like me to cure your friend rather than setting her loose on you, I suggest you hold your tongue."

"I'm so sorry, Professor, don't mind Harry, he's just…hungry," Ginny said.

"Yes I'm hungry and I told you this was a terrible idea. Now look where we've ended up," Harry retorted.

Snape's patience had run out. "I presume you have somewhere else to be?" he asked.

"Well, we were on our way to dinner," Ginny explained.

"Good. Go."

Ginny and Harry looked at each other, probably wondering whether they should trust Hermione to Snape.

Harry was visibly unhappy being in his former professor's flat. "I… think she'll be okay, Ginny. Shall we go?"

Hermione was spread out across the couch fiddling with the satiny fabric covering her breasts. Ginny looked at her, clearly feeling guilty. "I suppose so."

The couple headed out the door, Ginny thanking Snape again for taking care of Hermione.

Snape turned his attention back to his cauldron, trying to ignore Hermione writhing on the couch. After a few moments, he felt a hand snake around his waist.

"Hey," Hermione whispered. "Whatcha doing?"

"I am making you a potion, Miss Granger."

"Don't worry about that." She grabbed his shoulder and pulled him around so he was facing her. For the first time, Snape noticed the dress she was wearing. The dark red fabric stood out against her pale skin and the low neckline skimmed across her breasts, revealing two soft mounds and an ample amount of cleavage.

 _Damn it, stop looking. You're acting like a lecher,_ he thought to himself.

In her current state, Hermione wouldn't have minded if he'd continued to stare, but Snape fought to stay professional nonetheless. He'd seen his fair share of witches who had taken Aphrodisiac Potion in his time, and one or two had even tried to seduce him. He knew what he was in for and he dreaded it, especially from the irritating know-it-all of the Golden Trio.

Hermione attached her lips to Snape's neck, gently nipping at the skin above his collar. He inhaled slowly, trying to focus on his own breathing rather than Hermione's hot breath and wet tongue moving softly across his throat.

"You're always so buttoned up," she slurred, moving her hand to the fastening of his coat. "What do you have underneath all this?"

Snape tried to push her hand away, but she was persistent.

"Noooo… come get naked with me," she insisted as she sloppily undid the top few buttons of his coat and quickly moved her mouth to cover the exposed skin, capturing it between her teeth and sucking gently. Her hands roamed across his chest, brushing his sensitive nipples through the thick fabric of his coat.

Snape felt his body betray him. He shifted his hips away from Hermione, hoping she wouldn't notice. Panicking inwardly, he renewed his attempt to detach her lips from his neck. He stared at the cauldron, willing the potion to hurry up and finish.

Snape let out an involuntary moan as her hand found the bulge in his pants and stroked him gently through the fabric.

"You like that, don't you Sev?" she breathed, the warm air tickling his ear.

Snape stiffened as he thought of the only other person who had ever used that nickname. Lily. How many times had he desperately wished she would do the things Hermione was doing to him now?

"Miss Granger, please sit back down," he nearly pleaded. She had a firm grip on him through his pants. It was all Snape could do to focus on his cauldron. He breathed a sigh of relief when he noticed the liquid had turned from dark green to to a light blue.

"Miss Granger, I insist you sit down. I want to give you something."

Finally Hermione let go of him and twirled towards the couch. "Ooooh, Sev. What are you giving me?"

"A potion, Miss Granger." Snape's hands shook as he slowly poured a measured amount of liquid into a beaker. He turned and nearly dropped the beaker when he noticed Hermione had unzipped her dress and pulled the top down, exposing her breasts. She grabbed one in each hand and licked her lips suggestively.

Desperately trying to focus his eyes somewhere over Hermione's head, Snape handed her the antidote.

* * *

Gradually, Hermione became aware of a very comfortable bed and a strong smell of books and parchment. She stretched her arms and opened her eyes to an unfamiliar dark paneled ceiling. Confused, she looked around. She was in a bedroom she'd never seen before. The walls were covered floor to ceiling with books. She was completely clothed in a rather nice dress, ensconced in a soft bed covered in black sheets.

 _Draco?_ She wondered as she noticed the comforter was Slytherin green. _No, Draco would never have this many books._ Hermione reached for the volume closest to her on the nightstand and read the cover: _Practical Applications of Anti-Venom Potions._

So she was in a bed belonging to some well-read Slytherin who had a particular interest in potions. One wizard who fit that description sprang to mind, although Hermione was loathe to think how she could have ended up in her former professor's bed. She carefully climbed out of bed and padded across the wood floor.

Hermione's worst fears were confirmed when she peered out the door and into the sitting room. Severus Snape was curled up on the couch, his cloak draped over his body, a curtain of black hair falling gently over his face. Hermione thought he looked a little like a sleeping bat, although she had to admit his severe features seemed more relaxed than usual.

Still confused and slightly terrified, Hermione wondered what exactly she'd been doing in Snape's bed. She would have assumed they'd hooked up, except he was on the couch and she was fully clothed.

At that moment, she just wanted to flee Snape's house and go home, but she had no idea where her wand or her shoes were. She spotted her wrap draped on the back of a chair and headed carefully toward it. But as she did, she stepped on a loose floorboard.

Snape's eyes flew open and he instinctively reached for his wand, but relaxed his hand when he noticed Hermione. She thought she saw a hint of a smile on his face.

"How are you feeling, Miss Granger?" he asked as he sat up.

"Like I got hit in the head with a bludger. What happened?"

"Your so-called friend tried to poison you and your so-called boyfriend stood you up. Not a good night for you, I'm afraid," Snape drawled. "Not a good night for me either. First I had to babysit you and then I had to sleep on my own couch. Have I mentioned your friends are imbeciles?"

Hermione was confused. "I'm sorry, Professor, I don't remember..."

Snape sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Must I spell out everything? I should have just Obliviated you." His hands moved to button the collar of his shirt and Hermione noticed a bruise on his neck that looked suspiciously like a hickey.

"Did I do that?" Hermione asked, hesitantly gesturing toward Snape's neck.

He glared at her and smirked but said nothing.

Memories suddenly came flooding back and Hermione realized what she'd done. She remembered voraciously attacking his neck with her mouth, and the feel of his hard cock through the wool of his trousers. Snape had surely been livid at her for eliciting that reaction from him.

Embarrassed, Hermione turned her eyes toward the floor.

"You were under the influence of a terribly made Aphrodisiac Potion if it makes you feel any better," Snape offered softly.

Surprised by the less-than-harsh tone of his voice, Hermione still couldn't fight the dread that weighed down her limbs or the mortification that made her feel sick to her stomach.

Snape stood and moved to hand Hermione her wrap and shoes. His face was as impassive as ever and Hermione found herself slightly frustrated that she couldn't even begin to figure out what he was thinking. She was twenty-one years old but felt like an idiotic child under his cold gaze. She hastily slipped her shoes on and threw her wrap over her shoulders as Snape headed to the front door and opened it, wordlessly asking her to leave.

"Thank you, sir," she muttered.

"Do be more careful in the future," Snape responded as he nearly slammed the door after her.

Hermione stepped out into the morning sun, thankful she could Apparate and wouldn't have to take a long walk of shame alone with her thoughts.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I changed the genre because there is really no angst here. Nope, none at all. Just a sweet little romance story. (Well, as sweet as can be expected when Snape is one of the characters.)

* * *

Hermione spent much of the day in bed, trying to avoid reality by sleeping. When she was awake, her thoughts were a jumbled mess. She was alternately mortified at how aggressively she'd come on to her former professor, angry at Ron for standing her up, and irritated at Ginny for convincing her to drink such a terrible potion. As for her thoughts toward Snape, she was mostly confused. He could have easily taken advantage of her, but he'd acted like a perfect gentleman. Maybe he just didn't find her attractive at all. No, she had clearly felt his arousal and even in her altered state, noticed him fighting to keep control. Then there was the fact that he hadn't mocked her relentlessly for getting into such a situation in the first place. If she knew anything about Severus Snape, it was that sarcasm and derision were his favorite methods of communication.

Around three in the afternoon, a very sheepish-looking Ginny showed up at Hermione's flat, apologizing profusely. Hermione answered the door in her pajamas and sent Ginny away fairly quickly, claiming a headache and promising to show up at the Burrow for Sunday brunch before trudging back to bed.

As much as she wanted to stay in bed for a second straight day, Hermione reluctantly dragged herself to the Burrow the next morning, where she was treated to Molly's delicious cooking and Ginny's continuing guilt.

"I can't believe I did that, Hermione. Will you ever forgive me?" Ginny was literally wringing her hands as she, Harry, and Hermione sat in the sitting room waiting for brunch to be ready.

Hermione still felt the strong pangs of humiliation and wished Ginny would pick a different conversation topic. She turned to Harry for help, but his face looked just as uncomfortable as she felt.

"Gin, I'll get over it," she said, more to reassure her friend than anything else.

"What happened after we left? Was it bad?" Ginny's brows were knitted together in worry.

"Nothing happened. It was fine," Hermione said, more shortly than she intended, and excused herself to the kitchen where she tucked into the _Daily Prophet_ in order to avoid further conversation. Turning to the sports section, she found herself face to face with a picture of a grinning Ron Weasley. A stunning young woman with dark skin and long sleek black hair had her arm around Ron's waist and was smiling adoringly up at him. Hermione felt her stomach lurch and she realized what an idiot she'd been. Of _course_ Ron was carrying on with other girls. He was a professional athlete.

The girl in the photo was the exact opposite of Hermione physically - classically beautiful and probably without a single thought in her head, judging by the way she giggled airily in the moving image. Disgusted, Hermione flicked her wand and the paper disappeared in a ball of flames, the ashes settling in a heap on the table in front of her.

"Oi! I was going to read that!" yelled George from across the table.

"Probably better you didn't," Hermione responded glumly, Vanishing the ashes.

"Your little brother's a git," she added, unable to stop herself.

George looked at her for a moment before uncomfortable realization dawned on his face.

"Messing around with foreign girls?" He asked quietly. "I had a suspicion."

Hermione gave a sad nod that didn't escape Mrs. Weasley's notice.

"Really!" She exclaimed, just a bit too loudly. "Ugh! I thought I raised him better than that!" She stomped out of the kitchen.

George gave Hermione a sympathetic look and squeezed her shoulder. "Don't worry, Mum's probably gone off to send him a Howler. And trust me, she sends some nasty Howlers."

Learning of Ron's betrayal only piled on to Hermione's distress. Between that and the events in Severus Snape's living room, she spent most of her time deep in rumination. Returning to work at Flourish & Blotts on Monday morning only helped distract her intermittently. She tried to focus on stocking shelves and helping customers, but every Quidditch book reminded her of Ron and every other book reminded her of Snape.

 _I wonder if he's read this one,_ Hermione thought as she packaged up _Advanced Occlumency Tactics_ for a paranoid looking old wizard.

 _I would love to hear his opinion on this,_ as she shelved a new shipment of _The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore._

By Friday, Hermione was nearly out of her mind. She usually couldn't wait to go out on a date with Ron or even just spend a quiet evening at home with him. But now she didn't want any part of the weekend social scene, nor did she feel like spending any more time in her lonely, depressing flat.

When Ginny entered the store shortly before lunch time, Hermione's heart leapt. Maybe she could suggest a girls' night out. But her hopes were dashed when Ginny opened her mouth.

"Hey, want to go out with Harry and me tonight? We're going to get some dinner and then go dancing."

While she appreciated the peace offering, Hermione felt uncomfortable.

"I can't go out with you lot, I'd be a third wheel."

Ginny looked around the shop. "Ask Nicholas. Hasn't he been eyeing you for ages?"

Hermione glanced over at her coworker who was flashing a winning smile at a customer. He was good looking, to be sure; tall, muscular, with messy sandy blond hair. But he was a bit too much like Ron for her liking at the moment. She wasn't even sure why he worked at the bookstore, since the only books he ever read were about Quidditch.

"I've only been single for a week!" Hermione protested.

Ginny shrugged. "I'm not saying you have to marry the guy. We'll just go out and have some fun."

"No thanks, I'd rather spend some time by myself."

That was a lie. Hermione had never felt more lonely, but she wasn't about to hook up with anything that moved just to get back at Ron.

"Okay," Ginny said, looking concerned. "Let me know if you need anything, will you?"

Hermione nodded and waved her out the door.

 _I bet the potion he made me is in this one._ She flipped through a copy of _Antidotes to Common Love Potions._

 _Ron is such an immature little boy._ She watched a group of teenagers huddled around _Quidditch Through the Ages._

 _I wonder if Snape ever reads fiction._ She straightened up the shelves in the Muggle Classics section.

 _Does he just read all summer? I guess that's what I do. It's not like he has friends to go out with._ She tried to concentrate on the _Daily Prophet_ she was reading, determinedly avoiding the sports section. _I wonder if he'd mind if I stopped by._

 _Ugh, I must be really lonely if I'm thinking of paying Snape a social visit._

And so it was under the pretense of giving him a thank you gift that Hermione knocked on Snape's door that evening.

The perpetually surly wizard flung the door open and rolled his eyes. "Now what?"

Undeterred, she held out the book she was holding with the best smile she could muster. "I just wanted to say thank you for taking care of me last week. I brought you this."

Snape snatched it out of her hands and inspected the cover.

"It just came out," she rambled, "the newest research on first aid potions. I thought you might be interested."

Snape tucked the book under his arm and turned his attention to Hermione. "It would have been much easier for you to just send an owl. Yet you still felt the need to interrupt my solitude for the second week in a row."

"I wanted to thank you in person. And I thought maybe we could talk about what happened," she said hopefully.

"I'm not a shrink, Miss Granger, and I have no desire to hear you prattle on about your feelings, nor do I wish to discuss mine." He still stood in the doorway, staring at her with his classic look of annoyance. She desperately fought the urge to back down and run away.

"So you do have feelings about the other night?" She challenged instead.

"Shouldn't you be out with your idiot boyfriend?"

"You didn't answer my question, and if you must know, I broke up with Ron."

Snape arched an eyebrow.

"He was going around with other girls. I should have known. I've been so stupid," she shook her head with disappointment, then cringed inwardly at having revealed that information.

Snape snorted, "I could have told you that."

They stared at each other for a moment before he spoke again, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"So you dumped your cheating boyfriend, all of your other friends are coupled, and you had nothing to do on a Friday night. Of course the logical thing to do is seek out the only other single person you know since he must be just as lonely as you are. I hope you brought some Aphrodisiac Potion for both of us."

Taken aback, Hermione opened her mouth to say something, but Snape cut her off. "That was a joke."

He stepped back from the door and for a moment, Hermione thought he would slam it in her face. Instead, he gestured for her to enter. "You may come in as long as you do not try to engage me in conversation." His tone seemed slightly less irritated, so she followed him into the sitting room.

"I'm sure you can find something here to read," he told her dismissively, waving a hand at the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves.

Hermione choked back a laugh at his understatement and looked around the room in awe. The only other place she'd seen so many rare tomes was in the library at Hogwarts. Her own collection paled in comparison to the professor's. Most of the books seemed to be on the topics of Potions or the Dark Arts, although there were at least a few on just about every subject she could think of. She even noticed a book or two about Divination.

"Where did you get all these books?" she asked.

"Please stop talking before I hex your lips shut," Snape snapped. Hermione turned back to the books and hid a smile. He'd only threatened to silence her, not to kick her out. Maybe the professor did secretly want company.

Hermione selected an ancient-looking Arithmancy book she'd never heard of and settled in on the couch. _The couch where I tried to seduce Severus Snape_ , she thought for a moment before quickly trying to banish the memory.

Looking up, she noticed Snape sitting in his large armchair with the book she had given him open in his lap. He was hunched over it, scribbling furiously in the margins with a quill.

The book Hermione had chosen turned out to be endlessly interesting and only when she couldn't fight back her yawns anymore did she realize she'd lost track of time. Snape was still engrossed in his new volume and Hermione took more than a bit of satisfaction from his apparent interest in it. Reluctantly, she stood up and cleared her throat.

"I should get going. I don't suppose I could take this-"

"You may absolutely not," Snape cut in, "This isn't a public library."

Disappointed, Hermione returned the book to its shelf. "In that case, maybe I could come back some time?"

"If you must," he answered tiredly, turning his attention back to his own book.

"I'll show myself out then," Hermione said quietly, realizing the professor wasn't keen to show any common courtesies.

Hermione returned to Snape's flat the next night, partially to finish the book she'd started, but partially because she had to admit the taciturn wizard's company was better than nothing. When she was done with the Arithmancy book, she picked another one. Then she chose one on Transfiguration. And then another one. She found herself on his doorstep more evenings than not.

They rarely talked. Sometimes Snape offered her tea. A few times he made her dinner and Hermione found that he was quite a good cook.

"Cooking is like potion-making. You just put the ingredients together in the proper combination. It's quite easy," he responded derisively when she expressed surprise at his skill.

Hermione found herself looking forward to her visits with the Professor. She thought she noticed a change in him as well. It was subtle, but after a few of weeks, he seemed to go from ignoring her to accepting her, if only a little. He'd even taken to walking her out at the end of the night.

"Thanks for the company," Hermione said when they reached the door one Wednesday in late July.

Snape regarded her skeptically. "The company or the books?"

She smiled as she thought for a moment before saying, "Both."

As Snape stared at her, confused as to why anyone would find his company remotely tolerable, Hermione stood on her tiptoes and planted a soft kiss on his cheek before turning and walking away.

Snape stood in the doorway watching as she retreated, wondering why the place her lips had touched was tingling and why there was a warm, heavy feeling in the pit of his stomach.

* * *

A/N: I had to split this chapter into 2 because I got a bit carried away. Lemons in the next chapter, I promise. :)


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